


Practice

by Cielle_Noire



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Mentions of neglect, POC Harry Potter, Protective McGonagall, but otherwise heartwarming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:50:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cielle_Noire/pseuds/Cielle_Noire
Summary: Harry has a favor to ask his new transfiguration professor.





	Practice

Minerva was just finishing the corrections on her NEWT student’s first assignment—they all had a lot of revisions to do, clearly—when a tentative knock came at her door.  _ Now who could that be?   _ She pulled her cloak tightly around her. “Come in,” she called.

 

The door swung open slowly, and there stood Harry Potter, arms full of what appeared to be muggle clothing. “Mr. Potter,” she said politely, curious in spite of the oddity of the situation. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“Good evening, Professor,” he said softly, stepping into her office and juggling the clothing in his arm so he could shut the door behind him.

 

It was an odd feeling, seeing him here at Hogwarts. He wasn’t the first child of her former students she’d ever taught. Wasn’t the first orphan of war, either. But he looked  _ so much  _ like James. His personality was rather different, however, regardless of what Severus thought.

 

“I have something to ask you,” he said quietly, shifting his feet nervously. “A bit of a request, actually.”

 

When he didn’t say anything else, Minerva prompted, “Go on, then. What can I do for you?” It was only the first week of school, and he already had something to ask? She hoped he was not being bullied or harassed for being the Boy Who Lived.

 

“I was wondering...well, hoping...could you teach me how to transfigure clothes?”

 

Minerva blinked at him. “That is fourth year spellwork, Mr.Potter.”

 

“I know. Hermione said the same thing when I asked her for help. So did Percy.” He dumped the clothes into the spare chair in front of her desk, picking up an article of clothing that could have been a t-shirt, once. Perhaps. It also could have fit six Harrys inside, and was a dingy grey color. “I just thought...well, I hoped I could change the clothing to actually fit me.” He was blushing deeply, though it was hard to tell with his tan skin. “And maybe the color as well.” 

 

Minerva pursed her lips. There was something about this situation she wasn’t seeing. “Did one of the older students do that to your clothes?”

 

Harry frowned. “No?”

 

“Did  _ you  _ do that to them, by attempting the spells yourself?” She tried not to sound  _ too  _ accusatory, but it wouldn’t be the first time a student got too enthusiastic about the possibilities of transfiguration and unintentionally affected permanent, regrettable change on their belongings.

 

“No,” Harry said softly, looking down at his feet. Minerva realized he was embarrassed, but she couldn’t understand why, especially if the poorly sized clothing wasn’t his doing. “My clothes have always been like this. Well, they weren’t always grey.”

 

Ah. So that was why. Another piece of the puzzle that was Harry Potter fell into place. But there was still something else...

 

“You want to learn wardrobe transfiguration...because your family won’t clothe you?” She hadn’t forgotten what Harry’s family were like, just as she’d never completely forgiven herself for agreeing to leave him there.

 

“These are the clothes they gave me,” he said neutrally. Minerva just stared at the pile, too horrified and angry to speak. Harry seemed to take her silence as a wish for elaboration. “My family always gave me my cousin’s old clothes, but, erm...he’s not the same size as me. So I thought...well, if you can turn a desk into a pig, surely you can make my clothes actually fit me? And maybe not grey...”

 

Minerva swallowed the lump in her throat. She’d be having words with Albus for sticking Harry with those monsters. “I can teach you the spells if you’d like, Mr.Potter, but fabric can only handle so much transfiguration before it falls apart. Especially muggle clothing—it isn’t made to hold magic like robes or magically enhanced materials.”

 

“Oh,” Harry said, visibly wilting.

 

“However, I would be more than happy to arrange for you to mail order some new clothing.”

 

He looked up, eyes bright. “You’d do that for me?”

 

“Of course. Don’t you remember what I said? Your houses are your family at Hogwarts. Families take care of their members, which includes making sure they have appropriate attire.” She smiled at him, certain now that he had not been on the receiving end of enough kindness in his life. “But if you’d still like to learn, it looks like you have a perfectly adequate pile of spare clothing to practice on.”


End file.
